Buttholing Ch. 01

He looked slightly crazed. His eyes were bugging a little bit, his mouth was clenched shut, and his entire body looked tensed. As I looked at him, I noticed the sweat on his brow, and even though he was facing the sink, and even though I was positive he had just jacked off thinking about Julie, I was positive he was as hard as iron in his pants, thanks to me, his sexy, super-attractive daughter.

"Please..." he begged to me, speaking up to what I was putting him through for the first time.

"Please what?" I said, putting on my brightest smile, turning to face him, leaning on the counter. Doing this presented him a full view of my bikini-clad body. My long, tan legs. My smooth, fit, taut belly. My big, jutting, fleshy tits. The pink bikini, really popping against my tan body. And, of course, my gorgeous face, smiling warmly at him. For a moment, silence hung in the air, the tension bubbling between us, and he hesitated to put more words to what was going on between us.

"Having fun?" Mom asked, suddenly entering the room. Dad, slightly panicked, turned to resume washing the dishes. I turned to face Mom calmly.

"SO much fun! We all are! Thanks for letting them all come over!" I gushed, my eyes flicking over to my silent father.

"Oh, no problem!" Mom said, smiling, clueless as always to this thing going on with me and Dad. As she moved to help Dad clean up, I could only think of the lack of tension between Mom and Dad. Dad never got driven as crazy by Mom as he was by me. Age had made her body softer than it once was, but she never had the body I do. And it had dulled some of her once good looks too, but she was never as attractive as I was. She had fully embraced the whole Mom thing in style and attitude, dressing like a mom, acting like a mom, being a prudish, boring old woman. She had ceased being the attentive wife and lover to Dad, and had become a dreary, dull, unsexy old lady. There wasn't a chance my mature stud of a father was sexually attracted to Mom anymore. How could he?

I understood. Young women like me got it. Men don't change. When they're younger, in high school and college, they need sex. That didn't change. And older men need it even more. If it was up to them, they'd be having lots and LOTS of sex. But as their wives' libido wain, they move to match. Even though they'd happily be having marathon sex all the time, if it was up to them. But they slow down for their wives' sake, to be good husbands. Each sacrificing his own driving needs for the sake of his family. That was what he gave up when he took his vows with her. And he deserved a reward for that.

That kind of discipline was really hot. It really appealed to me and my friends. Wouldn't it be great to see a guy who held back so much just cut loose? Just unleash the beast? And to be the girl to unleash such a lustful, sex-filled monster? There could be no higher honor, no? There were all these normal, real men out there who held back because they felt like they were supposed to. They were supposed to act like they didn't want to be fucking 24/7, when they really did. There shouldn't be any shame indulging in what you want. And Dad... he wanted it.

Dad was so normal and warm and friendly. But there was something inside him bursting to get out, and the fine art of Buttholing had brought it to the surface. Once these thoughts arose in his mind, he couldn't get enough. The animal inside him was salivating, being teased with the meal it was starving for. Dad wanted sex. Hot, naked, sweaty sex. He certainly wasn't getting it from Mom, and even if he was, it certainly wasn't good. So, he started looking towards me, his own daughter, and my friends, girls he knew could give him the kind of filthy sex he needed. We had each identified ourselves as twisted little sluts, and he ate it up. He had allowed us into his fantasies, and he couldn't get enough. Fantasizing about fucking his own daughter and all her slutty friends was exactly what he needed to get the sperm flowing. The thought was so wickedly hot and filthy that he couldn't get enough, despite all his protestations. Part of me still had my doubts if this could actually work, but I could hope, that if we just pushed him a little further, we could drive Dad so insane that he would give into me. And as I walked back outside to my friends, and I glanced at Dad, seeing the struggle in his eyes let me know that I might be right.

************

(Jim)

It was getting harder to deny it. I hated to say it after spending so long to trying to say otherwise.

I was starting to love Buttholing.

It was getting harder to feel guilty about it when it turned me on so fucking much. It was too difficult to carry any guilt with me. It was like I was torturing myself by forcing myself to feel bad about it. It was much, much easier to just forget about any guilt and just enjoy it. It was so much easier to forget my troubles and embrace Buttholing. And once I made that internal decision, a new world opened up to me.

Buttholing was the best. I loved it. At first, I didn't get it, but now, I totally got it. It was so wicked and so wrong, but that's what made it amazing. Nothing had ever turned me on this much. My cock was almost constantly hard it seemed. My sex drive was going crazy. At work, as the girls increased their output, and I was getting sent pictures hourly, I would have to stop and jack off like twice a day. And then I'd go home with my teasing daughter shaking her hot ass and her huge tits for me, which would drive me to jacking off again. And don't get me started on that pool party the previous weekend. I was driven to the edge of insanity all day, and I jacked off like three times in two hours at one point. I had never been this horny, even when I was a teenager myself.

I think that was the day it turned for me, the pool party. The day I was finally broken by the charms of Buttholing. Having them there in person, seeing these girls who'd been driving me crazy, being in their proximity... damn, I could barely contain myself. Seeing their round juicy asses in tiny little bikinis. Seeing their huge teenage tits barely contained by the small, barely-there patches of material... good lord. I beat my dick raw that day. I wanted to deny it, but seeing the effect it had on me, and seeing how potent it was... I swear, I had never shot as huge of loads of cum, and it was in a near constant flow that entire day. At that point that I stopped thinking about the bad things and embraced the naughtiness of it.

I could finally admit to myself that I enjoyed fantasizing about fucking Sabrina. Sure, she was my daughter, but she was so Goddamn sexy, and she clearly enjoyed teasing me. So, it didn't feel so bad imagining sliding my thick, meaty cock inside of her, fucking her hard, and making her squeal in pleasure. I knew how wrong it was, and I knew I could never actually do it in reality, but it felt so fucking good. I would fire gobs and gobs of hot sticky cum thanks to these wicked fantasies. But my fantasies about these other girls weren't any less potent. Cecilia, Skye, Devon... thinking about fucking them was almost as filthy as fantasizing about my daughter. I wanted to make those teasing little sluts scream. Even Julie, someone who seemed so level-headed and smart... the idea of making her moan was just as intoxicating.

These girls being so wicked and so slutty as to send me pictures of their buttholes was insane, but the thrill of being the man on the receiving end of these amazing pictures was a thrill I couldn't deny. The excitement of being a part of it was like being in a whole new world. It had been a long time since I was single, and even then, I had never taken part in something this wicked. It was new and exciting. I couldn't get enough. I couldn't stop myself.

It was only then that I started to see the dangers of Buttholing.

The problem wasn't the act itself, or the type of girls that would do such a thing. No, the problem was that it was too good. Too fucking potent. It was so easy to get addicted. Like the dark, swirling skin around a nice, tight butthole, it was like a vortex that couldn't be escaped. Before I knew it, I couldn't get enough. I couldn't get free. I needed to get my next fix. The girls, at least all of them but Julie, were keeping my collection of Buttholing photos filled, sending both new, fresh pictures, plus any other photos they had on hand, pinging my phone like twenty times a day between them. Giving me full-on views of their butts, and more teasing glimpses of their luscious tits. It was driving me crazy with need.

But this wasn't enough.

On my work computer, I would look up pictures online, more Buttholing pictures, anything to satisfy my hunger. We ran a loose ship at work, but if I got caught, I would probably still get fired. And I almost did, a few times, in fact.

My phone had become a fucking shrine to Buttholing, and if anybody at work saw me on it, I was probably staring at a picture of a teenage temptress's butthole. People here knew my daughter and liked her and knew how much pride I took in her. But I don't think they would be totally cool with me staring at a picture of her perfect asshole, despite how undeniably sexy it was. I was walking a tightrope here, as tight as my slut daughter's butthole, and if I wasn't careful I could get into a lot of trouble. But it was hard to stop. These pictures were fucking addicting! I would think about it every hour of every day. I would close my eyes and see those Buttholing pictures in my mind's eye. And I would dream about it at night. I couldn't get enough.

Another added side-affect to the charms of Buttholing was that it made my wife seem way less exciting in comparison. Sex with my wife had never been less appealing than it was during these few days I spent immersed in the midst of Buttholing. In contrast to the white-hot photos I had been staring at, my wife seemed dull and frumpy. I could never imagine Charlotte doing something as wicked and exciting as spreading her ass-cheeks and exposing her asshole to me. It was just wrong. The thought of my wife doing something like that was almost revolting. I loved my wife, but I did NOT want to see her doing anything like that. She did not have the body or personality for it. Sabrina, and her hot teenage friends? Yes, I totally wanted to see them posed so sluttily. Those are the types of girls you want to Butthole you. My wife, ugh... never.

I had always been satisfied with my sex life, but the prospect of sex with my wife never seemed less interesting to me than it did now. Compared to the things I had seen, my wife didn't match up. It sounds bad, I know, but these wicked girls, and their luscious, lust-inspiring bodies... mere pictures of them gave me more sexual satisfaction than my wife could. Until seeing them, I never realized how dull my sex life had gotten. Charlotte's appetite had lessened considerably, and even when she was up for it, our lovemaking was always very robotic and uninspired. And although I had kept in shape and kept myself appealing for her, she hadn't returned the favor. And for the first time, that kinda annoyed me. I understood that with age comes weight change, but I would have appreciated even a marginal effort, I guess. Her ass had gotten big, and not in the good way. And her flat breasts seemed somehow even less prominent with that extra padding. To the point of non-existence. I know this sounds cruel, and I never used to think this way, honest. But Buttholing... it had changed me. Now, for the first time, I felt like I needed more.

All these changes in me, especially with them happening so suddenly... it worried me. These pictures had driven me crazy, and I knew if I stayed on this path, it would only end in trouble. I had been tied into a knot, much like the knot-like buttholes that had been driving me so crazy. And if I didn't put my foot down, it would end in my doom. If I wasn't careful, losing my job, betraying my wife, and fucking my own daughter was a distinct possibility. I couldn't have that, despite how tempting the thought was.

So, I needed to put my foot down. I need to quit, go cold turkey, to cure myself of this addiction. I kept my phone on silent, and didn't even look when the girls sent me pictures. Luckily, I hadn't participated yet in their wicked games, so they didn't have anything over me to force me into action. If I sent them the dick pic they so desired, they would have the power over me to make me do whatever they wanted. To make me do wicked and naughty things, despite knowing better, and experience things I never thought possible with these wicked, nasty girls.

And I couldn't have that.

I kept my browser closed on my work computer, and only used it for business. Same as my phone. I used every shred of willpower I had to stay strong, to resist the urge to give in and fall back into that trap. And for a couple days, I did a fucking good job. I kept my nose clean, and I was a good boy. And I could go for a few hours without even thinking about buttholes. I was making progress! I even tried to initiate sex with Charlotte, to remind myself about all the great times we had together and convince myself that our sex life hadn't fallen as far as I thought it had.

But Buttholing was a fickle mistress, and, like a butthole gripping a thick, swollen cock, it was loath to release its grip. It wanted to maintain its hold on me and pull me in deeper.

And it started with Charlotte.

"No, honey," she said as I curled up behind her, kissing her neck and pushing my bloated weapon into her. After the last few days of constant attention, my cock was desperate for relief after being denied in my attempt to go cold turkey from the temptations of Buttholing.

"Why not?" I said into her ear, kissing her again. But again, she pushed me away.

"My mind is elsewhere, baby. Sorry," she said apologetically. Not letting my annoyance at how many times her mind had been elsewhere lately, I pulled away and lied down on my back. She rolled onto her back, resting in silence for a bit before turning to me.

"Hey," she began, turning to look at me, not really thinking twice about the fact that she had rejected sex with me, more concerned with her own things. Admittedly, things never seemed this severe before, and I was probably overreacting to what was the normal behavior we had settled into. It wasn't like she was some shrill harpy who rejected sex at every opportunity. No, it was honestly an innocent response, but in light of recent affects, it felt like a slap in the face. I turned to look at her and not let my annoyance shine through.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"So... about Buttholing," she began, and this time, I couldn't hide my annoyance.

"Honey," I began, rubbing my forehead as the mere mention of Buttholing sent an electric current through my needy cock.

"I know, I know, just listen," she began

"Well, I mentioned it to a few parents, and we all agreed that we should have a meeting about it. So, we're having this PTA meeting at the school about, like, the dangers of social media and some of the things that could get girls in trouble. And one of the big things is gonna be about Buttholing. The meeting's at the end of the week. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come with. I know it's gonna be this couple hour thing, but I think it might be a good thing to do. To get a better handle on this whole thing and how parents should handle it if they find out their kids are doing it."

Nope. This was a bad idea! I had to get myself out of this quick.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "I don't want to even get involved with that whole thing," I stated, knowing her problem with it was a lot different than mine.

"Oh, uh... okay," she said, a bit surprised at my easy rejection of her. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said firmly, and seeing that my feelings were strong on the matter, she dropped it.

"Alright, well..." we sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of us able to rest. She turned to look at me again. "Hey..." she began. "I know you don't like to talk about this stuff, but I need to hear your honest answer. Seriously, I need it. Do... you honestly don't think Sabrina would actually do anything like that? Do you?"

It was hard not to laugh in her face. It was hard not to let my true feelings burst out. Somehow, I kept my face expressionless.

"No..." I said with a straight face, trying to give her the answer she wanted. "I don't think so," I replied, images of Sabrina's asshole flashing through my mind.

"Okay..." she replied, still sounding unsure. "I don't know... I've just been thinking about this whole thing a lot lately, obviously, and I know you think I'm just fixating on it. But, the more I think about it, the more grossed out I get by it, and the more worried I get that maybe Sabrina got caught up in it." Yeah, Sabrina hadn't gotten caught up in it. She was leading the charge. "I just... I just don't want to see her make a mistake and know we could have done something about it."

"Yeah. I wouldn't worry about it..." I said simply, not elaborating, making it clear I didn't really want to talk about it. Even she sensed this.

"Okay, uh... good night, I guess..." she said, rolling back onto her back and closing her eyes. But I turned away, anger on my face. I had done so well to reject Buttholing, but here, in my own bed, my wife brings it up again. She says that word, and all those wicked thoughts and feelings came back to the surface. And because of that, my cock was now bone-hard, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

In this state, it was difficult for me to feel too bad for rejecting Charlotte's offer. I know her heart was in the right place, but I was a realist. There was nothing a group of hysterical parents could do in some school meeting to stop the whims of determined teenagers. I was on the ground level, facing down Buttholing, dealing with it in my own way.

Unfortunately, thanks to Charlotte, Buttholing was on my mind again, and my consistent reaction to that was getting rock-hard and having it fucking throbbing with need. After about half an hour of tossing and turning, willing my cock to go down, I made a choice. Knowing I wouldn't be able to get to sleep, and hearing Charlotte snoring next to me, I rolled out of bed, snuck off to the bathroom, and furiously jacked off to memories of Buttholing, spewing a massive load that almost made me weak in the knees.

I had hoped that this was a temporary relapse on the road to recovery, freeing myself from Buttholing's wicked temptations.

It ended up being the first step towards my doom.

**************

I had done so well to resist the Siren's Song of Buttholing, but it wasn't done with me yet. Its claws were too deep, and I hadn't freed myself.

The memories of my relapse the night before were still running through me, as were the memories they conjured. Thoughts of buttholes flooded my system once again. I tried my hardest to change the subject mentally. I was proud of the fact that I had, like, forty unread text pictures. Forty pictures of buttholes, waiting to be appreciated. But I would resist. I would be strong.

I had done a good job of keeping my nose clean on my work computer as well. But of course, that wasn't gonna be good enough. I tried to keep my focus on work stuff, but as it seemed like with everything I did lately, it all went back to Buttholing.

I had an online meeting set in the early morning. I logged in a little early, as I always did, but through some technical snafu, I was logged into the meeting, but they couldn't see or hear me. But I could see them, and I could hear them.

I was meeting with a pair of women from one of our other branches a few states over. I'd known one of the women for a while, and I'd talked to the other a few times. The woman I knew, Cath, had been in our company for longer than I had. She was a few years older than me, and she was a really good worker and a sharp mind. We used to work together before she moved to take over the other branch, and we'd always been friends when we worked together. At first, she used to ever so lightly flirt with me, but once I met Charlotte and got married, she cut that out. I don't think it was ever anything beyond some gentle teasing, and it never changed anything between us.