Buttholing Ch. 02

"Hi!" she said, smiling warmly, no distrust in her grin. All I saw was love and trust, what I should expect. Because she loved me. Because she was my wife. Because she should never suspect her husband of wicked, incestuous infidelity.

"How was the meeting?" I asked, not really caring.

"Oh, good. Learned a lot. There's a bunch of weird shit these teenagers are doing that you wouldn't suspect," she said with a smile.

"Tell me about it..." I replied, barely able to keep a straight face.

"We all talked it over at the meeting," Charlotte explained. "I mean, there's so much stuff going on with teenagers, things I've never even heard of. Pretty crazy things. Stuff I don't even want to talk about with you."

"Okay," I replied, knowing that at this point, I could handle just about anything.

"But, anyway, they're putting it to a vote," she said.

"What?" I asked, shaking my head. Realizing she was a couple steps ahead of me, she stopped and backed up.

"So, it turns out, there's this app that you put on phones," she said. "It monitors for any lewd pictures, like boobs, and penises, and butts, and now, uh... buttholes."

"So... what's the vote on?" I asked, confused.

"The school wants to make it a requirement to have this app on any phone a student brings into the school. Some of the parents thought it might be a violation of privacy to force this app on their kid's phones. But some argued, that since it's the parents paying for these phones, it's up to them. In my mind, if it puts a stop to the spread of this stuff, a little privacy violation isn't the worst thing in the world. So they're setting up a site for the parents to vote with, and they'll be sending out an email to every parent with all the info in a few weeks. Once the vote is set, the app will be put on the phones, and hopefully, all this craziness will be stopped. It might not affect things for us, since she's about to graduate, but hopefully, it should stop the flow of this stuff with younger students." Charlotte explained, smiling hopefully.

I put on a fake smile, but inside, I was not so excited. I'd experienced the pleasures of Buttholing. At this point, I was a Buttholing convert. I knew the bliss it could bring. Who was I to put an end to it? Who was I to withhold that bliss from everyone else? Charlotte might be excited about putting an end to it, but I wasn't, and I tried to think of what I could do to prevent that.

It was only now, as I listened to her drone on about the depths of depravity teenage girls were capable of, something I knew all about at this point, that I was able to slow down and actually think about what I'd just done.

I'd just fucked my daughter. I had wild, hot, crazy sex with my slutty teenage daughter. And in doing so, I'd betrayed my wife, cheating on her for the first time, doing and saying things that would make my conservative wife's hair turn grey. Charlotte would pass out if she even had the slightest inkling of what had occurred here. It was crazy. It was sinful. It was wrong and indecent and as nasty as it gets.

But the weird thing was... I felt just fine.

I should be feeling bad. I should feel addled with guilt, regret and shame, but I didn't. I felt fine. Content. At peace.

For weeks, I'd been subjected to a temptation and wickedness I'd never known possible. I'd been pulled into a world I didn't know existed, a world of sin and lust and evil, forbidden sex. I'd gotten a sample at the start, a small taste, but it was enough to send me into a tailspin. I'd run the gamut through these past few weeks, feeling lust and frustration, anger and regret. And it wore me down enough for me to give into it. To embrace it, at least for a little while. I'd done it. I'd actually gone and done it and fucked my daughter's brains out. I had sex with my own daughter. I slid my thick, lengthy cock into my daughter's mouth... her pussy... her ass. And not only that, I'd cum inside her too, cumming in both her cunt and asshole. There was no hemming and hawing. Me and my daughter had committed hard, wicked, filthy INCEST! We had hot sweaty sex in my own living room. I cheated on my wife. Sabrina had successfully seduced her own father. This was about as wrong as it got, and if you would have told me a month ago what I was gonna do, I would've been horrified. But now? How'd I feel now?

I felt... fine.

I felt... content. I was amazed at how little of what I'd just done actually bothered me. You would think, at this point, with the weight of what I'd just done hitting me now that I had a clear head, I'd jump off a building or something. But no... I felt just fine. I didn't really feel all that bad for cheating on my wife. I didn't feel any regret whatsoever over fucking my own daughter. And the reason why was simple.

The sex was that good.

It sounded crazy, but it was the truth. It wasn't just a hook-up. It was world-changing, mind-melting, filthy, crazy, nasty FUCKING! I'd gone years not knowing such a thing was possible. But not only was it possible, I had lived it. I'd seen the other side. Years of settling for regular, dull, domestic sex seemed like absolute torture in retrospect. How could sex feel that good? How could I have missed out on this? How could I ever go back? Now that I knew such a thing was possible, how could I settle for any less? Sure, it was with my daughter, but it was so damn good. What was the point of living life if you weren't gonna live it? Living my normal, domestic life satisfied certain needs, sure. But raw intense fucking like that made everything else seem dull and unimportant in comparison.

I loved Charlotte. I really did. She was a great wife and a great mother and I loved her deeply. But, in retrospect, especially after what I had experienced today, it was clear my wife was a total dud in the bedroom. I loved my wife, but this was the case. I'd accepted it because I didn't really know better. I didn't know what kind of wicked pleasures were out there. And now that I did, I couldn't just forget that. I couldn't just move on. This experience had clearly shown me that my wife sucks in bed, and that my 18-year-old daughter was a total expert.

As I talked with Charlotte about the stupid, pointless meeting she had just attended, I couldn't stop looking at her through these new eyes. Honest to God, I never had these issues with her before. It wasn't till this game began that I started looking at her with these new eyes. Before, I was happy with everything. I was content. But now, seeing how amazing the other side was... it was hard to see her any other way. I couldn't help but notice her slightly faded looks. The weight she'd put on as the years went on. Her big ass. Her tiny breasts. But the thing that really hurt her, more than anything, was the disgust she had when discussing anything remotely sexual that didn't jive with her limited world view. She would turn her nose up and act skeeved out by anything resembling sex, either on TV or in movies, or just in pictures she'd seen. And not only did she get skeeved out, she would fixate on these things, like she had with Buttholing. And, ironically, her persistence and willingness to fixate on things she saw as wrong, something that attracted me to her in the first place, had kind of pushed me away from her in the end, pushing me away from her and into my daughter's waiting pussy. Charlotte didn't use to be this prudish, but as she had aged, this kinda thing had really set in. So, as this whole Buttholing thing rose up and became a whole big thing for her, I didn't really realize how off-putting this attitude was to me until now. The fact that my wife was so resistant to anything sexual. The fact that she wanted to be a killjoy and get in the way of all the wicked, exciting things these teenage sluts could do... it wasn't a good look for my wife. The fact that my wife couldn't deal with fun sex stuff was a total boner killer for me.

But Sabrina... sure, she was my daughter, but damn if she doesn't exist to make cocks hard. With those tits and that ass and the way she could come across as being so innocent while being so slutty... damn that was hot. I had tried not to think this way for so long, but after giving in and fucking her, there was no point denying the truth. My daughter was hot. A total babe, who had my wife beat in every way. And ironically enough, it was clear Sabrina had inherited her mother's persistence, but this quality in her was much more attractive. Whereas her mother would persist on and on about whatever perceived wrong she stumbled upon, Sabrina was persistent about sending pictures of her asshole to her own father till he was driven so insane with lust that they just had to fuck. So yeah, my daughter used this quality for much more attractive pursuits, clearly.

It was still crazy to me. The fact that I'd actually hooked up with Sabrina, that I had actually fucked my own daughter... as crazy as it sounded, at this point, the wickedness of the act, how forbidden it was... it only turned me on more. I had sex with my smoking hot daughter... it was nuts! I'd had my cock buried in her tight cunt and even tighter ass. I'd gotten my hands on those big, squeezable tits of hers and felt them up to my heart's content. I'd made my own daughter scream in rapturous pleasure at the end of my lengthy cock. And I'd filled up both her pussy and her ass with my thick, potent cum. It was just... pure insanity. I still couldn't believe it. Even this morning, I would never have thought I would think this way. But here I was. At this point, I had no regrets. I had thoroughly enjoyed screwing her.

The question was... what did Sabrina think?

Since we had finished fucking, she'd only said one word to me, a small, muted 'Hi.' Since then, she'd been locked up in the shower, or her room, and I hadn't seen her. I hadn't spoken with her.

What was she thinking? Was she happy with what had happened, or did she feel regret? She'd brought out something in me I didn't recognize, and in doing so, I had shown her the consequences of her teasing. That was the beast she had created in me, the lust crazed animal who barely resembled her father. Now that she had seen the seriousness of toying with her father like that, was it too much for her? Was it too much to handle? I mean, clearly, she had handled it sportingly earlier, screaming her head off and cumming like crazy. But had things gotten too insane, even for a wicked little slut like her? Did the game get too real? Did she want to keep playing?

I couldn't say for sure.

As me and Charlotte discussed dinner plans, her attention turned from me to a new presence.

"Hey!" my wife announced, looking past me. I turned to look quickly, and there stood Sabrina. Finally ready to get the answers to these many questions, I studied her, wanting to ascertain her demeanor. Was she happy or upset? Was she content or regretful? It all hinged on her behavior at this very moment.

"Hi!" Sabrina called out with an unusually chipper smile. She was dressed comfortably, wearing a pair of loose, thin sweats, a blue top, and a thin green pullover sweater. "How was the butthole meeting?" she asked her mother with a sly smile.

"Well, uh," Charlotte stammered, blushing slightly. "It wasn't all about that," she clarified. "But, um, it went fine, I guess. I mean, I hadn't heard of all the crazy stuff people your age get up to."

"Oh, yeah," Sabrina replied. "You have no idea! Some of the girls at my school are, like... crazy!" She hadn't once turned to look at me, but her cheery attitude was a good sign, right?

"I hope you're keeping your nose clean of that, uh... riff-raff..." Charlotte said, and I had to turn away so my wife couldn't see my grin. I knew exactly what type of girl Sabrina was, and now that I did, it seemed obvious. Like... have you met her friends? That pack of teenage sluts? That was a clear sign that Sabrina might not be so innocent, but Charlotte... she was clueless.

"Uh, yeah. I'm very well-behaved, Mom," she said with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Just ask Dad."

At this, she turned to look at me for the first time since we'd shared that initial, quiet, post-coital father-daughter moment. Her eyes stared into mine, and in that moment, all my questions were answered. I saw no regret. No shame. No... I saw playfulness. Teasing. A knowing gaze, sharing the wicked secrets we shared. The knowledge we had over her mother, info that Charlotte would never know. Secrets that would destroy her. As Sabrina looked at me, I saw that heat in her eyes as she gave me the once over, letting me know exactly what she was thinking about. And she knew I was thinking the exact same thing.

"Yeah..." I said, shaking myself enough to answer the question. "She's our perfect princess." Sabrina smiled wickedly at this as Charlotte turned away to grab some stuff from the cabinet. As she did, Sabrina gave me a wicked stare with her eyes and marched closer to me, stepping towards the end of the kitchen island and leaning over right in front of me, revealing the hot pink thong rising above the hem of her thin sweats. I smiled wolfishly.

The game wasn't over. No... it was just beginning.

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